


Canon: No Thank You

by lcwilkie



Category: Artemis Fowl - Eoin Colfer
Genre: Fix-It of Sorts, Gen, Sort Of, Spoilers, The Fowl Twins, only for the OG crew
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-24
Updated: 2020-04-24
Packaged: 2021-03-02 00:21:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,208
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23825968
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lcwilkie/pseuds/lcwilkie
Summary: Artemis and Butler going to Mars? Juliet nowhere to be found? No, thank you! Some ficlets about what I think the OG AF crew are actually up to during the events of The Fowl Twins, and why they aren't in the picture.
Relationships: Domovoi Butler & Artemis Fowl II, Domovoi Butler & Juliet Butler, Juliet Butler/Original Male Character(s)
Comments: 9
Kudos: 14





	1. Artemis

**Author's Note:**

> Here we go! Let me just say that I have no actual idea when each chapter takes place in relation to canon or the other chapters. And it's been a little while since I read the books, so some details might be off. But oh well!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Artemis turned out a little bit monologue-y here...but it's not like he isn't canonically full of himself anyways, so it works. This chapter was originally going to involve Artemis and Minerva off on an adventure, but then I had questions about why Butler wasn't there, and things changed. Might write the Artemis & Minerva adventure anyways. But for now, here's some Artemis Fowl the Second.

“Of course I have no intention of going to Mars,” Artemis scoffed to his companion, not looking up from his computer monitor. “Why would I want to go to Mars? Far too much interest from space agencies. Though I think I will set the blast off trajectory to make it look like a Mars mission, before adjusting the thrusters to return to the Moon. So kind of the People to already do preliminary research and base building.”

“I really don’t think they did so for your benefit.”

“Perhaps not. But the understanding of the beginnings of life and where it came from and if there is anything to learn from the Moon should be accessible to the scientific community at large. Knowing where something comes from is a supremely viable method of determining how it has evolved and what it needs to successfully continue evolving. Mother will be delighted with the results, think how it can help save the environment and Earth’s creatures?”

“So you’re planning on live streaming the results of your research is it happens then,” Butler said.

Artemis looked up from his computer and shot him a look, clearly noting the sarcasm from Butler’s comment. “Of course not. I intend to do my own research, and then share the raw data with both human and fairy scientists at the same time and watch their results.” He shrugged, and looked back at the monitor. “Though, to be fair, I am mostly working with the infinite-typewriters-and-monkeys theory for the humans, since the People already have a head start, and most human scientists are, quite frankly rather lackluster with their local satellite research. Though if you could get your contact from NASA to send me their readings over the next several months, I would appreciate it. We have about sixteen months before the ship is ready for preliminary tests, and then there will be any minor modifications before we “blast off,” as they say.”

“Wait a minute,” Butler said as he held up a massive hand. “’We?’”

Artemis was focused on his computer, adding dimensions and details to his blueprints. “Yes, ‘we.’ Of course ‘we’. Villa Eco is almost fully built for the Fowl’s long-term residence, so your security presence here is less necessary. I understand a long jaunt in space means you won’t get to spend as much time with Juliet, but with her traveling on her own, you wouldn’t anyways. You should probably consider using only fairy blasters though; three year’s worth of nine millimetre slugs would be rather cumbersome to drag through space.”

Butler leaned back in his chair and studied his charge and employer. No longer a teenager, Artemis was a renowned young adult, with several degrees and doctorates. His relationships with others around him were improving. With a history of disappearance, death, mental illness, and sever physical injury across the board of the Fowls, though, the interpersonal relationships of the entire family were strained. Butler wasn’t sure how he felt about Artemis planning another once-in-a-lifetime jaunt, and his parents were obviously unimpressed. They had lost their son too many times to be content with another three-year disappearance. Artemis’s arguments that it was no different than sending him off to college did little to sway them. Beckett and Myles also didn’t know what to make of their strange older brother, flitting in and out of their lives, and Butler considered his own familial relationships and how Juliet had berated him for not working to maintain them, despite not being in a truly professional capacity anymore. With all these thoughts in mind, and with utmost calm and decisiveness, Butler simply said to Artemis, “No.”

It took several moments for Artemis to react. When he did, it was with a series of quick blinks, before taking his hands off they keyboard and looking at his bodyguard incredulously. “I beg your pardon?”

“I said, ‘no.’ I’ll ask Craig about the records, but I’m not going to plan to use a fairy blaster on a trip to the Moon because I don’t intend to go to the Moon. At this point, I know better than to try and change your mind about _you_ going.”

Artemis again sat in silence, before lacing his fingers together and speaking in a matter-of-fact tone. “I see. I understand that you have some reservations, but I assure you the wind-up methodology is entirely sound. I am, of course, more than happy to answer any of your other questions or concerns as they arise. And while we don’t always stay as closely bound to your contract as probably idealized, it does stipulate you are with me during all travel to guarantee my safety, especially in potentially hazardous scenarios.”

“If your only argument for me going is that it’s in my contract, I quit.”

Nearly half a minutes passed before Artemis realized he was sitting with his mouth open in shock. “You…quit?”

“Yes. You said it yourself, your method seems sound, and as it’s a pretty water-tight contract short of my involuntary dismissal or voluntary leaving, I’m out.”

“But…why? You spent three years waiting for me in a shack by the sea, and now you are suddenly deciding that is too long to devote to a certain task?”

Butler just looked calmly back at Artemis, ignoring the acid in his voice. He was well used to Artemis’s sharp tongue. Artemis, for his part, felt a twinge of actual hesitation. Butler had threatened retirement rather consistently now, whenever things did not go according to Butler’s ideas of safety, mostly in People-related adventures. This was the first time he had used the word “quit” though, and the first time he had said anything about terminating his employment without active stress leading the conversation.

“I had my reasons for waiting; you promised you would be back after saving the world, and you didn’t exactly give me a choice as far as being the only person who knew your plans. This is just another science experiment by the great Artemis Fowl the Second, and I have no reason to participate.”

“Your contract and family history and _our_ history aren’t reason enough?” Artemis said. “Surely you can see that this will be a major scientific breakthrough, the results No1 found can be added onto –“

“I am _tired_ , Artemis.” Butler interrupted. With a start at what was very rare from his almost obnoxiously professional employee, Artemis sat back, and actually listened.

Butler ran a hand over his face. “I am fifty years old, or thereabouts. I have died for you, literally, at least four times in the past ten years. I have, as previously mentioned, spent three years waiting and questioning my sanity for you. I have fought trolls, goblins, ghosts. My heart is nowhere near what it was, despite everything the People can do to help. In addition to all of that, what good am I in space? I can’t keep up with you intellectually and have no desire to spend three years losing at chess so you can have someone to talk to. My main roles of chauffeur, chef, and guard aren’t applicable. I wouldn’t know how to fly your ship or land it if anything went wrong, and in the vacuum of space it wouldn’t matter if I did. There won’t be foodstuffs or supplies to prepare the kind of meals that would make it worth it to haul me up into space, especially if you think three years worth of relatively small bullets is a potential problem. And on that note, what would I use bullets for anyways? Or any weapon? It’s space, Artemis. If what we’ve been told is true, there aren’t any other lifeforms for me to protect you from, and if there were, there’d be no way to know _how_ to protect you from them. Guns aren’t going to help against environmental factors, either. You’re a genius, Artemis, you must have thought of all of this already. Why did you think I _would_ go to space?”

Another long silence filled the room. Butler waited, outburst over. Artemis had gone paler than usual. Eventually, he gathered his scrambling thoughts.

“I suppose I always anticipated your loyalty outweighing practicality.” It was his turn to raise a hand, as he saw Butler take breath to speak. “Yes, I know, a ridiculous notion. You have always been professional, but not all of our escapades have been practical. Kidnapping a fairy for gold ingots, for example. Being twelve is hardly an excuse, seeing as at twelve I was smarter than most award-winning scientists. You have, historically, shown an unswerving dedication to your job, and by extension, to me. It simply wasn’t a large enough probability that you would not be with me for any task to consider at length.”

“Surely you’ve known that someday I would either retire or die in the line of duty.”

“Intellectually, yes. Though I am not sure if I have ever actually fully realized what that would entail. The past experiences of losing you to death have, despite popular theory, not been permanent. My own brush with it has given me a rather skewed sense of the matter as well…but the philosophical discussion on that is hardly appropriate to have now. I am…aware that space travel is outside the realm of your experience, and far outside the bounds of your contract. I am also aware that I have only half a dozen individuals I can really call a “friend” in this life or the next, and even then that may be a stretch as the count includes Mulch.” Artemis paused, and glanced down at his hand, folded into a lose fist on the desktop. Gathering his courage, he looked up, straight into Butler’s eyes, and admitted: “I am afraid of losing myself again, and of causing harm to those I care about. You have always been at my side, literally and metaphorically, supporting me and preventing that from happening, to the best of your abilities within the situations I put us in. With you there, I can be less cautious in all aspects, as you have always been able to pull me out of whatever calamity I have plunged headfirst into.”

Butler sighed, and rubbed his temples with one hand. He started to speak, shook his head, and frowned, trying to find the words he wanted.

Before he could, Artemis continued. “Despite all that, you are correct. I have asked the impossible of you, continuously, and you always provide. If you truly wish to no longer be responsible for preventing me from entering into ridiculously over the top and Artemis-esque situations, I can hardly blame you for that.”

Butler smiled slightly at his longtime friend. “At least you’ve matured enough to realize you can be a bit of a handful at times.”

“I can be an overdramatic, obnoxious little shit, to use Juliet’s turn of phrase,” Artemis replied with raised eyebrows, and his own small smile. “Do you honestly mean that you are quitting?”

There was only a slight hesitation before Butler confirmed. “Yes, I really do mean it. This life…it’s no longer what I want, Artemis. The wild escapades, crazy chases, being forced into tiny spaces to meet fairies…I just want to sit and read a book once in a while without worrying about who you might be antagonizing while I don’t have my eye on you.”

Artemis nodded. “I understand. However, I refuse to accept your termination.” Seeing Butler’s eyes narrow, he continued quickly. “For advising me that you no longer feel fit for active duty, I am instituting Section 24 of your contract. You’ll be on light duties for the next three months to ease out of an active role and allow an adjustment period for all parties, after which a review of your performance will be undertaken and your severance package allocated. Once your contractual employment is complete, you’ll be more than welcome to remain in an hourly position with the Fowls for as long as you wish in any role you wish, or you may follow whatever plans you have for retirement. Any questions?”

“Have you considered what exercise equipment you want in your ship, to prevent muscle atrophy while you’re in space for three years?”

Artemis laughed, briefly. “Not quite the question I was anticipating, but yes. And I appreciate the quick transition to lighter duty options in an effort maintain my well being. I had planned to make the exercise room one of the largest, but without a seven foot tall exercise enthusiast on board, I can take out some of the more intense pieces of equipment. Which will mean readjusting some of the balance points…”

“I’ll leave you to it then,” Butler said as he stood up. “I’ll send that email off to Craig now; he’s usually pretty prompt at responses so should have an answer to us by this time tomorrow with some preliminary information. Shall I send up some sandwiches and a pot of tea, if you’ll be here a while?”

“Yes, I’d appreciate it. Oh, and Butler?”

The manservant turned back, hand resting lightly on the doorframe.

“Thank you. For everything.”

“Of course, sir.”


	2. Butler

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Butler's turn! I really don't see him in space, or continuing to do hardcore physical activity for the rest of his days. So, what does he get up to after leaving his longtime job?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am a die-hard member of the Dear God Just Let Butler Retire Club, so I forced him into retirement. Maybe not relaxation, cause he does not strike me as the kind of person who would enjoy doing nothing for long stretches of time, but who knows. Don't get me wrong, he's one of my favourite characters, so this isn't a way of getting rid of him, it's a way of saying "Hey, maybe he would like to not die on a regular basis. Here's a way to make that happen." Because he's retired, he also gets to use his real name! When he wishes to, of course.

Sun was, as typically advertised in beach-holiday venue brochures, shining on the beach and the waves and the top of the deceptively simple straw hut where the bar was located. Plain roof, plain siding, but a whole host of state-of-the-art refrigeration and cooking and storage technology in the back. It was worth it to know those with money and a good reason to spend it.

The barkeep wiped down another glass and surveyed the beach through somewhat clunky wrap-around sunglasses. Families sat under umbrellas or on lounge chairs or played in the surf. A handful of customers were are the tables just on the edge of the bar hut, enjoying fish and chips, salads, or other simple meals with their drinks. Noting the young woman walking towards the counter, the bartender turned and began the process of mixing a Caesar, heavy on the clamato, light on the Worcestershire.

“I still don’t know how you can drink those,” he commented to his sister as Juliet sat at one of the open stools.

“I still don’t know how you wound up running a tiki bar on a beach getaway after being one of the world’s best bodyguards for over three decades,” she replied.

Domovoi shrugged broad shoulders under his yellow and pink Hawaiian print short-sleeve button-up.

“It’s fun. Get to meet a lot of interesting people.”

Juliet turned to survey the beach. Children screaming in laughter, pasty old men in too-small bathing suits, and alcoholic modern women filled the beach. She looked back at her brother, and even though her large sunglasses covered most of her eyes, eyebrows, cheekbones and other clues of facial expression, Domovoi laughed at the clear exasperation.

“Although, that’s nice. You need to laugh more. You didn’t do it nearly enough while working for Artemis. And you’re not really here for these people, are you?”

His lighthearted smile turned to a knowing grin. “Not really,” he said, and adjusted his own glasses, casually pressing a concealed button on the arm. With a fresh eye, he looked to the artfully constructed rock wall noting the edge of the beach property. One blink later, and the glasses had refocused onto what was happening on the other side of the projected rocks. He cast an eye over the hidden part of the beach belonging to _Haven Beachside Resort._

Elves were splashing in the surf, sprites soaring over the low thermals, and pixies suntanning on towels. There was one family of gnomes enjoying a beach holiday, and one family of centaurs galloping along the strand. Dwarfs, goblins, and demons were also welcome, but rarely made an appearance for various and usually obvious reasons. Trolls were absolutely not permitted.

“I take it everything is still going well with…that side of the business?” Juliet asked, calling her brother’s attention back to her. Since old habits die hard, and aren’t necessarily detrimental, Domovoi let his vision skim over the human side of the resort, alter for any threats, before looking in the sink for the next glass to wash.

“Business is booming,” he replied, “with the Council having booked their yearly retreat here in July.”

“Really? Well at least they’ll pay well.”

Domovoi nodded speculatively. “There’s only a dozen of them, and they made me ensure no one else was here –“

“They _made_ you? You could squash them in one step!” Juliet interrupted. “Sorry.”

Domovoi continued, easing his glare at the disruption. “So I’ll lose the revenue of having a fully booked set of cabins, but if Foaly is to be believed, the Council doesn’t really understand how much liquor is supposed to cost, so I can at least make up some losses there.”

“Good think No1 took care of the ‘no drinking with humans’ thing. But when did you turn into a businessman? Revenue, bookings…what happened to just standing still in a corner and looking scary? And how do you even make bookings _work_ with the People, them being and almost exclusively gold-based economy?”

Domovoi snorted. “I worked with the notorious Fowl family for twenty years, give or take. Even _I_ picked some things up about business management, to answer your first question. And to answer the second question, I worked with the notorious Fowl family for twenty years, give or take. The world’s most notably family for dealing in gold. And not really being morally opposed to financial laundering.”

Juliet studied her brother. “You’re really happy here, aren’t you?”

Looking up from the last glass in the sink, Domovoi met his sister’s eyes through their sunglasses. She knew him well enough to know he was honestly, fully looking at her, not constantly flicking his eyes over his surroundings. Of course, you didn’t really need to know him that well; when nearly seven feet of muscle was giving you his full attention you tended to notice.

“Yes. I’m really happy here. I have a low stress, low stakes, job that keeps me busy and entertained. I have as much time to relax as I want. I have not only the best human resources on call through Artemis – even with him off in space – but untold technology and medical treatment for the heart thing through the fairies. It may not be as dramatic as some other things I’ve done, but I’ve had plenty of drama in my life up to now.”

After another long look, Juliet shrugged, downed the rest of her drink, and stood up. “Well, I’m happy too. Free beach vacations whenever I want!” She turned, and ran to the ocean, untying her beach cover on the way.

Domovoi watcher her go and smiled, shaking his head slightly.

Before they knew he was already aware of their presence, he turned to the young couple that had wandered to the other end of the bar. “What can I get you folks?” After a small grin at their startlement of the sudden notice, Domovoi went back to work.


	3. Juliet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Juliet! A few brief snapshots of her life outside of the Fowl household, and why she would not be there to take care of the twins during their grand adventure.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Different format than the other two chapters, mostly because I have a lot of ideas about Juliet's life. She's young and fun and has the whole world in front of her, writing just one scene of her life didn't work for me. So here's a bunch! Yay! Slight swearing in this chapter (depending on your definition of swearing).

They met on the beaches of Mexico. He complimented her on her surfing and asked how long she’d been catching waves. When she told him it was her first day out, but she’d always enjoyed swimming, and had a great sense of balance, he offered to give her some pointers, being a registered surf instructor and all.

Juliet knew it was a shameless attempt at flirting. But he was cute, with shoulder length blond hair and pretty long-lashed grey eyes. And he was taller than her, at about six foot two, opposed to her five foot eleven. And he was Australian, and Juliet was always a sucker for Aussie accents.

So she agreed, and catching one wave turned to three, turned to drinks on the beach, turned to sandy kisses at sunset, turned to numbers in phones and promises to text and see each other again before he left after his friend’s wedding.

~~~~

They talked over email. And occasionally Skype, but timezones were a bitch. He told her about his banker father and schoolteacher mother and graphic designer brother and law student sister. She told him about her private security father and personal assistant mother and bodyguard brother. They shared memes and dog pictures and recipes for how to make hot dogs even better. They talked about themselves and their hobbies and their jobs, as best as they could.

Occasional phone calls happened, when one of them had the next day off. If one had the chance to travel, and they both loved to travel, they tried to fit visiting each other into the equation. It worked out more often than not.

~~~~

They introduced each other to their families. He found it hilarious when her brother tried to intimidate him, and laughed about how surely Butler couldn’t be all bad if he had raised Juliet into the woman she was, thereby winning Butler’s approval. Juliet laughed when Artemis pointed out that “Roman” was simply a different version of “Romeo,” and did she pick a man with that name on purpose?

The twins loved him; he roughhoused with Beckett and wasn’t condescending to Myles. Angeline and Artemis Sr. found his lighthearted personality a good match for Juliet’s exuberance and invited him back as often as he wished. “The manor could use more laughter.”

Juliet was welcomed with hugs all around at a barbecue in Australia, and was immediately adored by the family as a whole when she offered up her own hot sauce mix for the burgers and shotgunned a beer.

~~~~

They had their first real, big, make-it-or-break-it fight when Roman confronted her over the secrets she kept. The names she’d mention with no details, the caginess about some of her tasks while working for the Fowls.

“If you love me, you have to love all of me, even the parts I can’t tell you about!” she cried.

“If you love _me_ , you have to trust me!” he yelled.

She buried her face in her hands. “I can’t do this right now.” She threw on her shoes and ran into the rain.

He swore, and went go beat up his punching bag. An hour later, he found her sitting under the pier, wrapped a blanket around her, apologized, said her hiding spots were predictable, and held her while she cried. When she was exhausted, she explained:

“I went to the same school at Butler, and learned the same things, and not all of them are nice. I met people, good people, who, for their safety, need to stay hidden. I want to tell you about them, I want you to meet them. But I can’t make that choice for them.”

“Ana’s studying law. If they need to stay hidden, then they stay hidden. Liam’s signed so many non-disclosure agreements I’m surprised he can say anything about his work. I won’t ask you to go against what you think is right.”

Three washes later, they were still finding sand in their underwear.

~~~~

They had a destination wedding. His family was in Australia. Her family was in Ireland. They were also in Australia, but only because Juliet refused to live in New Zealand (“Why?” “A New Zealander killed my brother. ” “Oh my God, babe, I’m so sorry! You never mentioned another sibling, when was this? How old were you?” “Oh, no, I only have the one. He made a fully recovery.” “….Alright, babe, if you say so.”).

If _someone_ had to travel for the wedding, _everyone_ would have to travel. And the vineyards of Italy made a lovely backdrop at sunset. Fairylights, stringed instruments, champagne, and 150 guests in the brightest colours they had partied until four in the morning after the ceremony.

Roman was in a tailcoat, because why not have some fun with it? His brother was best man, sister was maid of honor.

Juliet was in a ballgown, because even though she could kick someone from here to next week, she was still a girl who had had dreams of a fairytale wedding. Her brother walked her down the aisle and everyone who knew him was more surprised at the open, relaxed smile on his face than they were at the suggestion of tears in his eye.

Marcus, at fourteen months, was the ring bearer for his parents.

Only a few people commented on the heat, making hazes in the back row of chairs at the ceremony.

~~~~

They sent photos as postcards from across Europe. Selfies, mostly, in front of gorgeous mountains or castles or valleys or fields of flowers. Pictures of Roman carrying Marcus on his front and a giant backpack on his back. Pictures of Juliet carrying Marcus on her front and Roman in a piggyback on her back.

Six weeks after their honeymoon ended, a final picture postcard arrived. A black and white, slightly grainy picture, labelled with arrows noting “head,” “heart,” and “14 weeks!”

~~~~

They sent yearly Christmas cards. He was always dressed as Santa, she was always dressed as Mrs. Clause. Their son and daughter were elves. This year, the card was signed “Roman, Juliet, Marcus, Lillian, and Dude” with a small paw print, likely from the Australian shepherd puppy in the picture.


End file.
